Canada by rail

Published 4:16 pm, Thursday, April 20, 2017

Views from the Skyline dome car, with windows framing the earth and the sky, can be spectacular. Falling asleep in one of these seats is a major faux pas.

Views from the Skyline dome car, with windows framing the earth and the sky, can be spectacular. Falling asleep in one of these seats is a major faux pas.

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The Canadian, Via Rail Canada's Toronto-to-Vancouver line, makes an epic cross-country run through mountain passes, alongside majestic trees and bodies of water as well as the abundant wildlife that accompanies them. MUST CREDIT: Via Rail Canada. less

The Canadian, Via Rail Canada's Toronto-to-Vancouver line, makes an epic cross-country run through mountain passes, alongside majestic trees and bodies of water as well as the abundant wildlife that accompanies ... more

Photo: Via Rail Canada

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Views from the Skyline dome car, with windows framing the earth and the sky, can be spectacular. Falling asleep in one of these seats is a major faux pas. MUST CREDIT: Via Rail Canada.

Views from the Skyline dome car, with windows framing the earth and the sky, can be spectacular. Falling asleep in one of these seats is a major faux pas. MUST CREDIT: Via Rail Canada.

Photo: Via Rail Canada

Image 4 of 5

The Canadian, Via Rail Canada's Toronto-to-Vancouver line, makes an epic cross-country run through mountain passes, alongside majestic trees and bodies of water as well as the abundant wildlife that accompanies them. less

The Canadian, Via Rail Canada's Toronto-to-Vancouver line, makes an epic cross-country run through mountain passes, alongside majestic trees and bodies of water as well as the abundant wildlife that accompanies ... more

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Canada's nationalized passenger line offers 19 routes in eight provinces in the world's second-largest country. You pay a price for beautiful rural sightseeing - a lack of WiFi and spotty cellphone service.

Canada's nationalized passenger line offers 19 routes in eight provinces in the world's second-largest country. You pay a price for beautiful rural sightseeing - a lack of WiFi and spotty cellphone service.

Canada by rail

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For Canada's 150th anniversary this year, there are infinite ways to fete the unification of its British colonies. You can visit a national park, historic site or marine-conservation area free. (Thank you, et merci, Parks Canada.) Buy a commemorative stamp. Attend the Canada Day festivities on July 1 in Ottawa, the capital. Binge-watch Ryan Reynolds movies. Or for the ultimate pan-celebration, traverse the country by train.

"You don't really get the scope and breadth of the country — how much real estate there is from coast to coast" on other modes of transportation, said Daryl Adair, who wrote the "Canadian Rail Travel Guide" and runs a train-travel agency in Winnipeg, Manitoba.

Our northern neighbor is the world's second-largest country by area, after Russia; the United States ranks fourth, after China.

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Via Rail, the nationalized passenger line, offers 19 routes in eight provinces, including a transnational journey from Nova Scotia on the Atlantic to British Columbia on the Pacific.

The trip is epic in terms of scenery and experience, but not in time or expense. If you leave Halifax, Nova Scotia, on a Friday afternoon, you can arrive in Montreal the next morning, catch a train to Toronto and then board the Canadian, which pulls into Vancouver, B.C., the following Wednesday.

If you can sleep curled up like a shrimp in a takeout container, the economy-class fare costs about $500. To stretch out like a noodle, you will pay more than twice as much, but chef-prepared meals, non-boozy beverages and snacks are included. Plus, the U.S. dollar is slightly trouncing Canada's currency.

While the train was still parked, I roamed the narrow aisles from nose to tail. I visited the economy section, where passengers had arranged their belongings for a public slumber party, the WiFi lounge and the dining room elegantly set for lunch. At the bar, I scanned the menu of Canadian beers and wine, and at the hot beverage station I poured myself a cup of fancy tea and gingerly climbed the stairs to the second level of the Skyline dome car. Surrounded by windows framing the earth and the sky, I tucked myself in for the nearly 24-hour ride.

The mood was festive, a party-in-progress. Several passengers were deep in conversation, shouting over the seat backs rather than turning their heads to face each other and miss a moment. One topic: the travel habits of the Canadian Football League.

"That's really cool that they take the train," Shannon said of the athletes. "That is so Canadian."

The steward issued the last call for lunch. The car emptied out.

Shannon and his father, John, a retired cop from Ottawa, invited me to join them. John ordered two pieces of chocolate-mousse pie and told me that he planned to stay awake for the entire trip, so as not to miss any of the sights.

From Toronto to Vancouver, I had booked a lower bunk bed with a privacy curtain that swished with every change in the air current. My excuse for not pulling an all-nighter: I wanted to enjoy my last night with a door.

I awoke at dawn as the sun was yawning over the St. Lawrence River. I found the Floods in the dome car. John had nodded off at 3 a.m., but was alert for the remaining stretch through Quebec. Shannon and I searched for wildlife as we inched toward civilization. "Cat," he called out. I noticed a horse on a rooftop, but plastic ornaments didn't qualify.

In Montreal, I spent nearly six hours roaming the city before I had to board the commuter-like train to Toronto. I had planned to navigate the Underground City, a miles-long network of tunnels with shops, restaurants and museums, but I craved fresh air, even if it did pinch my cheeks like Elsa's fingers. I ducked into the Basilique-Cathedrale Marie-Reine-du-Monde, refreshing my college French with a sermon, and visited a Best Buy, to charge my phone battery, which the freezing temps had depleted. At a boulangerie in the station, I bought a baguette, because when in French Canada ...

In Winnipeg, I arranged to meet Adair, who took me to the Winnipeg Railway Museum, on the second floor of Union Station. We started at the beginning. In the late 19th century, British Columbia, which the United States was eyeing for its union, pledged to join the confederation but under one condition: It wanted the government to build a railway connecting the west to the east. Prime Minister John MacDonald backed the proposal, and in November 1885, a ribbon of steel linked the coasts.

Two companies ran the freight and passenger lines until 1978, when train travel started to fall out of fashion and lose profitability. The government took over the leisure unit, though Via Rail still runs on the tracks of its nation-building ancestors.

After playing around in some of the old trains on exhibit, Adair led me back to my 1950s model. He left me with a tip: At around 3 p.m., I should sit on the left side of the scenic car, a prime spot to view the sweeping Qu'Appelle Valley. I began to see a common trait among train sapiens: They carry a topographical map of the route in their heads and hearts.

No offense to Ontario, but boreal forest grows repetitive after a while. So when Martin, a rail employee, announced upcoming attractions in Manitoba, the members of the Scenic Car Social Club shook off our ennui and pressed our faces to the window. (Friendships forge fast in test-tube environments. Among our group: Maureen and Russell from England, Erin and Patti from Dallas, Charles from San Francisco, Sylvia from Ontario and Bill from Winnipeg.)

Portage la Prairie, Martin told us, is the geographical center of North America. Also coming up: the world's largest Coca-Cola can and the potato fields that feed the fryolators of McDonald's and Wendy's.

Shealagh Rose, a singer-songwriter from the Toronto environs, also performed for us, as part of the Artists on Board program. The company covered her travel expenses in exchange for three mini-concerts a day featuring her own songs and those of artists who included the Tragically Hip, Leonard Cohen and Joni Mitchell.

"They want me to sing some Canadian songs," she said from her perch in the cafe car.

On the final stretch to Vancouver, the Canadian raced the Fraser River. Then we dropped out of the competition: A freight train was in our midst, and we had to wait till it passed. I poked my head out of my bunk's heavy brown curtain and asked a passer-by if we were on time. We were at least an hour behind schedule.

I ventured into the dome car. Sylvia was peering through binoculars at two bald eagles. Maureen and Russell were gearing up for a second attempt at breakfast, hoping the line had shortened.

After 12:30 p.m., Martin pointed out a film studio and informed us that we had "officially crossed into Vancouver."

Now we could say goodbye. I hugged Maureen and Russell, my legs still unsteady but my embrace fully secure. In the station, I felt the ground sway, the train not yet ready to release its grip on me.